Some say the paper calls to you,
And I say that's not true!
Mine ran and hid when it saw my pen.
It was my last piece of paper too.
Finally, I managed to drag it out,
But it struggled the entire time.
I stapled the dumb thing to my desk
And sat back down to write and rhyme.
Then, all of a sudden, my mind went blank!
Of course, I blame the paper.
The poor, thin wretch who was stapled so crudely,
Begged me to do it later.
But I would not procrastinate!
And that's when things were ugly.
The paper rebelled against the writer,
Abusing me relentlessly.
He said he was sick of my spelling-
My grammar and mechanics too.
That all my bad ideas stunk and
My poor handwriting should sue.
With a stapled paper mocking me
I felt like such a loser-
When it tore itself from its fastened staples
And dashed out towards the window!
I swear I won't forget how
I wept and reached out hopelessly,
As my paper flew away from me
And its final cry for liberty!
So, really it's my paper's fault
That I didn't bring a lot.
After trying so hard to do my homework,
This excuse is all I've got.